Of Candles, Books, and Bells
by Wh33tbread
Summary: Quaxo never really got along with the Rum Tum Tugger. But when something happens that sends the conjuring cat over the edge, he unleashes an ancient evil that puts the entire tribe in jeopardy. DISCLAIMER: I do not own Cats or any of the characters, nor do I own the rights to them. All of it belongs to Andrew Lloyd Webber. UPDATE: Story completed!
1. A Stormy Night

**Hey, EmceeSquare here!**

**Welcome to my first ever FanFic! I'm so excited to finally post it. A BIG note before we get started.**

**This story is a kinda-sorta/not-really sequel to the first story I ever read on this site, entitled "Conjuring Pain" by the immensely talented Ailendolin. If you haven't read it before, you should think about doing so. It is a masterpiece! And tell him that EmceeSquare sent you.**

**Also, feel free to review it It brings me closer with you guys, and helps me become a better writer. Don't forget to favorite and follow this story so you can keep tabs on new chapters.**

**Well, that just about covers it. Onward into the first chapter.**

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><p>He ran on all fours, trying desperately to escape this….this….THING that was chasing him, through the alleys, vacant lots, and bystreets that have once been peaceful but have now been consumed with chaos. He had no idea what it was, but he knew it was going to get him if he didn't run, fast and far away. How did this all start, he thought to himself. How did I get myself into this mess? Can I get out of it alive? What would the other members of the tribe think? What if…<p>

He wasn't able to finish the thought, for he failed to see the pile of rubbish blocking his path. He tripped, and no sooner found himself sliding head first along the concrete, the jagged rocks and imperfections of the pavement scratching his skin, leaving a trail of crimson in his wake. Then he crashed headlong into a brick wall, each of his limbs folding up behind him like an accordion. He heard the sound of something breaking a moment before he felt a jarring sensation of pain rush through him. A jet of scarlet spewed from his nose all over the wall, splashing back in his face like a popped hydrant. He started to fade in and out of consciousness. Then out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shard of glass that seemed to belong to a mirror long ago, now matted with dust. This is hardly the time for grooming, he thought, but I need to see just how bad a beating I took.

So, with all the strength he could muster from his shattered bones and bruised muscles, he pulled his way along the ground toward that one shard of glass. Paw over agonizing paw, inch after every scathing inch. At last, he reached the shard. Looking into it, he started to make out a truly ghastly image that made his fur stand on end. For staring back at him was a visage that – had its black-and-white features not been absolutely covered in blood and distorted in sheer anguish – seemed eerily similar to the one belonging to the cat they called Quaxo. He could not help but stare gape-jawed at this ghastly physiognomy; could not help but wonder what sort of vile creature could do this to him. Just then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw it.

What "it" actually was he couldn't quite make out – save for its feline figure and glowing red spheres that can only be interpreted as the figure's eyes. He also could see that this was no cat: rather a being of…pure darkness and evil. He saw it approach him with an ominous and threatening manner, floating on a cushion of pure air. Just then, the air around him reverberated with an ominous rumble, for the creature – could this be? – was talking to him. Moreover, it wasn't just its voice, low and filled with the anguishing cries of his Jellicle brothers and sisters, but what the voice said that scared him to the core.

"We meet again, Creator."

And with that, the spectral figure reached out a shadowy paw, raised it high above its head, and brought it down on the poor little cat that was waiting below: the cat that watched helplessly as the paw became closer, and closer, and closer…

Then Quaxo woke up with a start in his den.


	2. Never Was There Ever

**Hey, EmceeSquare here!**

**I'd like to thank all of my readers for their undying support. **** It means a lot to someone like me. Also, I'd bet you didn't know that I'm a bit of a poet. In fact, one of my creations is already up on the site. It's called "The Treacher", and all you have to do to read it is click on my name and scroll all the way down. It's about an Assassin's Creed type character getting revenge on a turncoat during the American Revolution. Check it out, you won't be let down.**

**Anyway, enough chit-chat: here comes Chapter 2! **

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><p>Quaxo looked around the steamer trunk that he called home. Nothing. Silence. But he then noticed a feint yellow glow. He looked down to see that his paws were glittering with yellow sparks – the same sparks that emanate whenever he used his magic. How strange it was, then, that his fur should be glittering now, when he was dreaming. He pondered this for a while as the dull light slowly began to ebb, once again filling the trunk with darkness and solidarity, restoring a sense of tranquility in the young tuxedo cat – a feeling that was hard to come by nowadays, especially when the events of the previous night are taken into consideration.<p>

That night, Quaxo decided to put on a magic show for the tribe. He thought he had made great strides in his magic – especially since Coricopat and Tantomile had taken him as their apprentice - and he wanted to show the whole tribe what he could do. He was so excited that he converted the Great Tire in the junkyard's center into a grand stage, complete with curtains, an old spotlight, and some Christmas lights that he found while rummaging through the junk. The night of the show, the whole tribe showed up – even the Jellicle leader, Old Deuteronomy himself – and they were awaiting young Quaxo's performance eagerly, none more than the Rum Tum Tugger.

Ever since Quaxo walked through the junkyard gate for the first time, he had been Tugger's personal punching bag. When he wasn't getting swarmed by love-struck, squealing kittens, playing around with his brother Munkustrap, or kissing up to Old Deuteronomy, Tugger could be seen tormenting poor little Quaxo without end. It was a no-brainer, therefore, that he would be interested into seeing how well (or how terribly, as it was) the pipsqueak performs under pressure. There he sat with his legs propped up on a pile of rubbish, waiting for the fur ball to show his head. Just then, two eyes peeked out from behind the curtain.

Quaxo timidly stepped out, almost seeming to tip-toe across the stage as if the whole tribe wasn't watching. He hoped he could slink across the Tire to the other side unnoticed when suddenly he was drowned in the light of the spotlight. There he was, on display for all to see. Nowhere to run or hide. So vulnerable, so scared. _Here goes nothing_, Quaxo thought. He then cleared his throat, and started to speak.

"Ladies and gentlecats…" he found himself squeaking like a little mouse. He tried again. "Ladies and gentlecats, you may all know me as Quaxo, but tonight, I am the magical Mister Mistoffeles!" To much his surprise, he found the last few words come sliding out of his mouth, ringing through the junkyard with unrivaled clarity. Good start, he thought. Then he continued. "Tonight, you shall see feats of magic never before seen or attempted by felinekind. Prepare to be astonished!"

With the finality of that statement, he lifted his left paw, showing the audience the sparks leaping from it. He then did the same with his right paw, sparking just like the left. He held both paws high above his head, and the sparks started to arc from one paw to the other. The air felt alive with electricity. Every cat was on the edge of their seats. They've never seen anything like this in their entire lives! Just as it was getting so good, the cat clapped his paws together, causing an explosion that threw him to the back of the stage. All the Jellicles gasped with horror. All but Tugger, who was rolling on the floor with laughter.


	3. No Doing Anything About It

**Hey! EmceeSquare here!**

**IT'S FINALLY DONE! I pushed myself really hard to complete it, and it's finally done. I'm sorry that it wasn't done sooner; high school really takes its toll on you. But now I rejoice, for it's finally out, and all of you get to read it. And boy, it's long - much longer than my other chapters.****Thanks to everyone for their loyalty and patience. **

**I highly encourage feedback and reviews. I want to know what you think of the story so far - you like it, you don't like it, you want me to change some things around... Hey, don't be afraid to let me know!**

**And now, without further ado, here come Chapter Three of Of Candles, Books, and Bells!**

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><p>Quaxo shuddered at the recollection of the night's events. He embarrassed himself in front of the entire tribe, including Old Deuteronomy himself! <em>Is there any way the week could get any worse?<em> He thought. Just then, he realized he had lessons with Coricopat and Tantomile today. What's more, this was going to be the one-year anniversary of his tutelage under them. A year of lessons and _this_ is what he has to show for it? _Oh well_, he thought. _I suppose it could get worse._ He proceeded to open the door of his den just wide enough for him to stick his head out, which was just wide enough for a water balloon to come sailing into his den and strike him in the face, spewing its contents all over the young cat.

Quaxo sighed. It just got worse.

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><p>Tugger was already outside his den, doubled over in hysterics with another balloon clutched in his paw. He cackled exactly like he did the night before – a full-fledged belly laugh, punctuated by huge gasps of air which were, in turn, followed by another round of tear-inducing laughter. Upon seeing Quaxo's water-sopped features poke out at him, he regained his composure enough to let out a single sentence, bathed in his trademark baby-talk sting.<p>

"Aww, it wooks wike the wittle Mista Mistoffawees is all washed up."

"Ha ha, that's _real_ funny, Tugger," Quaxo said, completely defeated yet his words dripping with sarcasm and derision. "Prey on the cat that got embarrassed in front of the entire tribe last night, then ambush him outside his den. That's _hilarious_."

"I know. That's why I did it!" Tugger howled, before collapsing onto his back in another fit of laughter.

The young tux cat didn't even bother to acknowledge this with a response, feeling as if he wasted enough time already, trying to reconcile with the cat that made it his life's mission to make every day of _his_ life miserable. Instead, he did as best as he can to turn the events of the proceeding night – and now, this morning – over in his mind. However, as you would expect from being a cat drenched head-to-paw in the one thing that you despise, it proved a bit difficult for the youngster, as he trudged off in the direction of his tutors' den.

As he wandered along, trying to make himself as small as possible, Quaxo heard something akin to hushed whispering. He raised his eyes from the ground to the tops of the piles of tires lining his path to see – much to his misfortune – the head of every cat in the tribe looking down on him, their faces twisted in efforts to stifle the laughter that was no doubt trying to work its way out. At least they were trying to hold it back, unlike Tugger who let it all out in a whirlwind of idiocy loud enough to wake the dead. With knowledge of his brothers and sisters actually caring about his feelings, trying to bottle up the ensuing laughter, Quaxo slunk on.

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><p>As Quaxo weaved his way around the piles of scrap metal and rusted car parts that dotted his usual path to his tutors' den, he started thinking, <em>really <em>thinking about all of those moments that plagued his consciousness. He started replaying all of the times Tugger humiliated him – how many times he humiliated himself and Tugger just made it worse – in front of all of his friends, his _family,_ inside his mind over and over again. And with each passing moment, his blood festered while the image of Tugger's face tattooed itself into the inside of his skull. He couldn't _stand_ Tugger. There were days, weeks even, where he was nothing but nice to the big macho tom. He'd walk up to him – go out of his own way – to say "Hi Tugger. Your mane's awfully fluffy today!" He'd give him his last piece of fish, sometimes his entire serving. He would even prep the TSE-1 for his "nights" with Bombalurina! He did all of that for Tugger just for the expectation of an ounce of kindness and appreciation from the tom cat. And what did he get? A paw in the arse and an earful of laughs! That's it! No "thank you," "I appreciate it," or even the slightest expression of gratitude! **NOTHING!** He hated that. He _truly_ hated that. He wanted to lash out at Tugger with all his might. He found himself fuming. He was so mad, he couldn't think straight. _Calm down, calm down! _He tried to think of something to get his mind off of Tugger. And then he found it, the one thing that could make him forget all of his troubles…

_Victoria._

Quaxo walked along now, eyes fixed in front, his legs on autopilot, as the most beautiful cat in the junkyard danced effortlessly across his mind; her pearlescent fur, those rosy cheeks, that genuine smile of hers playing across her face. She was perfection in every sense of the word. The way she leapt and twirled through the air was truly a sight to behold. He felt something for her in his young heart; something unfamiliar; something he never felt before. He felt it grow warm; as if he was glowing. He felt all fuzzy inside; his knees went weak; he felt himself smiling with genuine joy. What is this feeling? he thought. This wonderful, wonderful feeling? Was it happiness? Excitement? Anxiety? Nerves? No, he thought. They all felt different. Plus, there was something special about this feeling that was welling up inside of him – something he'd never experienced before. Whatever it was, he let it envelop him as he walked. He felt himself glowing; this truly spectacular feeling he had inside…

_Splat!_

A second water balloon hit Quaxo square in the face, interrupting his blissful daydream. He looked up to see – who else? – Tugger standing in his path. The tom cat whooped and laughed hysterically exactly as he did earlier that day, this time punctuating it with remarks like "that was too easy" and "you should've seen your face." After he was about finished with his laughter, he let out a long sigh.

"Whoo, that was hilarious! What's the matter, Quaxo? Was I interrupting your little daydream, puffball?" Then his mouth twisted into a sadistic smile. "It looked like you were in _love_."

_Love? _Quaxo was taken aback. _Was that what I was feeling? _He had heard of love before, multiple times in fact. But there were multiple kinds of love. Which one was Tugger talking about? The kind that Coricopat has for Tantomile or the kind that Tugger himself talks about with Bombalurina? The poor cat couldn't tell which.

"You _were_ in love, weren't you?" Tugger snickered. "Well, take it from Uncle Tugger, squirt. Once you love someone, you're going to want to get inside them. _Please _them." Then Tugger started to moan and grunt – the most sickening sounds the tux ever heard out of him - and rub his paws all over himself. Quaxo didn't know what he was doing, but he had heard the same noises come from the TSE-1. He tried to flee, but his rhythmic grunts and moans stopped him before he could try and run. He was paralyzed with uncertainty as Tugger ran his paws up and down his own body, each touch eliciting a different sound…

"_Tugger!" _

They both whirred around and saw Coricopat in the doorway of his den, scowling at Tugger and poised ready to pounce. Tantomile was in the doorway as well, standing behind Coricopat.

"Get away from him right now," he growled.

Tugger looked at Coricopat with a shocked look on his face, which then grew into the sadistic smile from earlier.

He then let out a long, low, throaty chuckle. "Well, well," he snickered. "If it isn't Mommy and Daddy, coming to save the poor, defenseless little kitty." He then turned to Quaxo. "I'm not done with you, pipsqueak."

As he turned to leave, he whirred around quickly and shouted "Boo!" The young tux was nearly scared half to death. The fright knocked the poor little kitten onto his bottom. Seeing this, Tugger let out a triumphant laugh as he walked into the shadows of the junkyard.

Tantomile rushed up to him. "Are you alright? Did he touch you anywhere?"

"No," Quaxo sighed. "I'm fine." He struggled to his feet. "Thanks for the concern, Millie." Quaxo then lowered his head, eyes downcast at the floor. "It's nice to know that someone still cares about me."

Those words broke Tantomile's heart. "Quaxo, everyone cares about you. They just have…you know... an odd way of showing it."

"Yeah, I guess they do."

"Plus," Coricopat chimed in, "no one hurts our favorite pupil."

Quaxo smiled as Coricopat brushed the dust and dirt off of him. Finally he was able to put the past behind him for now. Now, he was with the two cats he considered as family, both of them accomplished magicians. They taught Quaxo everything he knew about magic: how to harness it, how to control it, and his favorite part, how to use it. They made the best tutors any cat could have, and he thanked the Everlasting Cat for them every night.

Coricopat smiled down at his little protege. "Come on," he said. "Let's get you inside."


	4. Open Up, Enter In

**Hey! EmceeSquare here!**

**IT'S SUMMER! HALLELUJAH! (ahem) Excuse me. Got a little carried away there. Anyway, now that my junior year in high school is firmly behind me, I can now write to my heart's delight. But first, there are some things that you should probably know:**

**First (and probably the most important) thing: I draw my inspiration for this story from the first story I ever read on here, the FanFic entitled "Conjuring Pain," written by the immensely talented Ailendolin. I kinda made this story a sort-of-sequel to that one, borrowing some events and all that (the one clear difference is that I made Tugger an absolute prick in this story, whereas he's super-nice in Ailendolin's).**

**Secondly, the story mentions furniture, which might throw some readers for a loop. The way I see it, they're miniature versions of their real-life counterparts, kinda like doll furniture but bigger. I just wanted to clear that up.**

**Finally, I've been playing a lot of Skyrim, and I just got finished with the Dark Brotherhood questline. What a wild ride! Plans are in the works for a Skyrim one-shot about a character that I've created and the Brotherhood itself. Watch for it.**

**Oh, and as always, feel free to let me know what you think of the story so far. I truly love hearing your comments! Do not hold anything back guys: I wanna hear from you.**

**Okay, I think that just about covers everything. On with the story, then.**

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><p>"'The Magical Mr. Mistoffelees'…"<p>

Coricopat contemplated the moniker that his little ward assigned for himself the previous night, meditating over each word as he let them slide off his tongue. _What a genius little name, _he thought, _but so peculiar_. "Quaxo," he called to his protégé. The young cat was over in the corner, going over a few tomes with Tantomile. Upon hearing his name being called, his ears perked forward in curiosity, and turned his head to face him. "How in Heaviside did you come up with that name? Where did it come from?"

"Well, Millie sorta gave it to me," Quaxo remarked.

This puzzled Tantomile. "I did? When?"

"Well, yeah," confirmed Quaxo. "You remember when I was practicing my magic out by the junk in the corner of the yard last year?"

"No, not really. But go ahead."

"Well, this was the week after you started teaching me. You showed me a very pretty spell, and I was trying to do what you did; only it didn't go very well. You walked by and you saw me trying to do it and I couldn't. I could just make this yellow mist of sparkles."

Tantomile marveled at the memory of the little ball of fur; an entire year passes by and Quaxo can recall an event from the past year like it was yesterday. It was truly remarkable that he could recall all these events with such clarity. And then it hit her.

She started seeing it too, as if the events were unfolding again right before her eyes…

_She was walking through the junkyard to get to Old Deuteronomy. It had not even been a whole week since he placed Quaxo under their tutelage, and he already was maturing so much. He paid attention to their lessons with such eagerness, so fascinated and engrossed in the material he was studying. He was learning so fast, they ran out of material to teach him. So, she was going to Deuteronomy, asking him for advice. On the way there, she noticed a burst of yellow light. Concerned, she ran over to investigate, finding her young pupil face down in a heap of junk. She raced over to rescue the kitten, only to find that he thankfully wasn't hurt. With a sigh, she asked him how on Earth he got stuck in the pile, to which he replied, "I wanted to do that pretty trick you showed me."_

_Tantomile chuckled. "Quaxo," she inquired, "that looked like a mist of follies to me."_

"_Mist of follies...mist of follies…mistoffollies…" The young cat mumbled to himself, a mixture of perplexity and excitement playing across his face. Then, he was struck by a revelation._

"_Mistoffelees!" he shouted. "The Magical Mr. Mistoffelees! That's it! That's perfect! Oh, thank you, Millie! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!"_

_Tantomile didn't quite know what to say. "Uhh, you're welcome. For what, exactly?"_

"_Well, all magicians need a good name, like Houdini, Dynamo or Rovi. I was thinking of one for me for a long time, but couldn't come up with anything. But when you said 'mist of follies,' something happened up here," he said pointing to his head, "and I came up with Mistoffelees! Oh, thank you, Millie! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…"_

Tantomile snapped back into reality. Startled, she looked around to see that she was back home in her den. _What in Heaviside just happened?_

"Is anything wrong, Millie?"

Tantomile glanced over to see both Coricopat and Quaxo looking back at her, their faces showing curiosity and concern. "It looked like you spaced out there for a second."

"No, I'm fine." Tantomile didn't want to alarm them, but what happened to her was truly strange. She never experienced anything like that. She had lived that same moment from an entire year ago, everything exactly how it had happened. She saw every detail so vividly, so pristinely clear that she could've sworn it had happened again. Everything that little kitten did surprised her, and this matter was no different. There was no doubt in her mind that Quaxo was a very special kitten indeed.

"Quaxo," Tantomile called, "the weirdest thing just happened to me."

"What was it, Millie? What happened?" A look of alarm overshadowed the young prodigy now. "Am I in trouble? Did I do anything wrong?"

Tantomile sighed. She truly hated to see Quaxo this way. She saw it when she went with Coricopat and Old Deuteronomy to meet him for the first time, right after the Pollicle attack that claimed his mother. He was so alone, so sad. He was crying over Munkustrap's wounded body, his own body being racked with sobs. When their eyes met for the first time, she saw that Quaxo's eyes were bloodshot from crying: out of fear that Munkustrap wouldn't make it; that he'd get in trouble for leaving the safety of his den; that he'd be forced out of the tribe…

Tantomile would never forget that look, and vowed to protect him with all her heart from anyone that would wish him harm.

"No, Quaxo," Tantomile assured the young charge. "You're not in trouble, and you certainly didn't do anything wrong. It's just…" She stopped, and then started again. "I went back to the day you were talking about. I saw it all in my mind, as if it were the first time. Everything was so clear, so vivid. That's never happened to me before. It was…remarkable. How did you do it?"

Quaxo shrugged. "I dunno," the protégé replied. "It happens to me, too. It just sorta happens sometimes. I don't know why. It just does." He looked down at the ground. "I'm sorry I don't know, Millie."

Coricopat came over now. "Quaxo," he said gently, bending down so he could see his pupil eye to eye, "no one's mad at you for anything. You don't need to apologize for anything that you didn't do. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Promise?"

"Promise." He nuzzled the little tux, assuring him that everything was alright. He then rose, motioning Tantomile over so they could talk in private. "Here, Quaxo," he said, picking up a tome and handing it to the kitten, "look over this for a little bit. Millie and I have to talk to each other about something."

"Alright," Quaxo replied with a smile. Then he buried his face into the book and began studying intently.

When they were out of earshot, Coricopat sighed. "Look at him studying," he whispered to his sister. "If that isn't the cutest thing you ever saw."

Tantomile chuckled. "Yeah. I love the way his eyes scan across the page like a typewriter: to the edge of the line and back over…"

"But did you see how scared he looked when you asked him about what you saw?"

"Mmm hmm. That was so sad. It was just like the first day we saw him."

Coricopat was suddenly struck with curiosity. "What did you see, anyway?"

Tantomile described it to her brother in its entirety, being careful not to leave any detail out.

"The same thing happened to me, too," Coricopat remarked when she was through. "I was going to show him a potion recipe, but I just couldn't find my alembic. I asked Quaxo if he knew where it was, and he asked me if I checked the table drawer, saying that I put it there last week. Then, all of a sudden, I remembered. No, it was more like I was reliving that exact moment where I put it into the table drawer. Everything was so clear, so vivid, every detail astonishingly brought out. Then, I checked the table, and there was my alembic."

"So it's not just me, then," Tantomile commented. "It happened to the both of us. And he himself experienced it." Suddenly, she drew a surprised gasp. "You don't think that it's –"

"Déjà vu?" Coricopat completed. "It very well could be. But then again, remember who we're teaching…"

At that moment, they both stole a look at their young charge, which was still going through the same tome that Coricopat had handed to him earlier. He looked so young, pure and innocent, but they both knew the power that he possessed. If Quaxo could make objects float in mid-air, then _surely_ he can cause memories to manifest themselves. This was truly a special little kitten.

The discussion being over, the twins walked back over to Quaxo, where Coricopat picked up the tome that the young cat was reading.

"Alright, Quaxo," Coricopat said, "time for your lessons."

Quaxo looked at him earnestly. "Okay," he said. "What is it, Corey?"

Tantomile could see the young cat beaming from across the room. "Let me get the book really quickly," she said, moving over to a large bookshelf that more or less dominated the entire den. Its shelves were lined with a treasury of spell books, tomes, and potion recipes. Among them lay a big, dusty grimoire. Inside its covers was a wealth of arcane knowledge, containing every school of magic and every spell known to felinekind. Tantomile picked up the grimoire, straining under its immense weight, and carried it over to the table. She placed it on the table, producing a loud _thud _upon making contact with the table's surface. "Alrighty, then," Tantomile remarked, "let's see what we're gonna teach you about today."

She then proceeded to flip through the grimoire's pages, making note of the many lessons the young prodigy already completed. "Let's see here; illusion…alteration…restoration…prestidigitation…sleight of hand…" She flipped through the pages, one by one, in hopes that there was a spell or two that the wizarding cat has not already mastered. Finally, she came across it.

"Aha! There we are," she exclaimed. "Conjuration!"


	5. That Moment of Mystery

**Hey, EmceeSquare here!**

**So sorry for the late upload. I was on vacation and this story completely slipped my mind. And when I got back home... Oh, all the excuses. What really matters is that it's finally up, after all this time. Once more, I have some things to say before we get into the fic itself.**

**First, I want to thank all of you that have supported me all this time. I want to especially acknowledge the users named Pouncii and Milesperhour for their criticism, their compliments, and just being an awesome couple of people. As always, I highly encourage any feedback. If you want to say anything at all, don't be afraid to drop a review or a PM, or perhaps both. I really wanna hear from you guys.**

**Also, before the last chapter, I mentioned a Skyrim one-shot. It will take some time to write because of all the backstory that will go into it. I'm terrible at dates, but I'll work towards getting it out in the early-to-mid fall. Plus, the wheels are turning for _another _story that I've been wanting to write for a long time (I know, I'm really busy), and that story just happens to be a Cats one-shot. I have no idea how long _that'll _take.**

**Hmm, what am I missing here... oh, right! In case you guys are wondering how old Quaxo is in this fic, I tried to place him around seven to eight years old. Same thing with Victoria and any other kittens you may come across. Tugger would be mid-20's. The twins are in their 30's.**

**WHOO! That was a lot to cover. Glad that's over. Now back to what you people actually came to see: chapter five of Of Candles, Books, and Bells!**

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><p><em>Knock knock knock.<em>

The sound of rapping on the door echoed throughout the den, attracting the attention of everyone inside. A visitor? At this early hour? Who could it be? No one really knew.

"Quaxo, dear?" Tantomile called. "Can you get the door, please, while Corey and I get prepped for your lesson? We kind of have our hands full."

_Knock knock knock._

"Uhh, yeah, I'll get it," Quaxo replied, trying hard to not sound scared, as he cautiously got up to open the door. Despite getting to know the members of the tribe better over the past year, he still felt a little nervous every time there was a knock at the door. To be honest, the uncertainty terrified him. There really was no telling who could be on the other side of that door.

_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK_.

As he slowly approached the door, the rapping on the door got louder. Whoever or whatever was on the other side, it sounded angry. Poor little Quaxo was worried that if he opened the door, a big, nasty monster would come in and get Corey or Millie…

Bravely, he closed his eyes, and flung the door open.

"Quaxo," a sweet-sounding voice called, "is that you?"

Hearing these words, the little kit opened up his eyes to see that he was face-to-face with the white-furred cat of his dreams.

"Victoria!"

They embraced, his arms wrapped snugly around her, looking for all intents and purposes like he'd never see her again if he let her go. Warmth radiated from her body to his, causing him to glow with happiness once more. He was so happy to see this little angel again. There was that feeling again, and it felt so nice.

"Hi, Quaxo!" she chimed, her voice as sweet as molasses. "How are you?"

At this, Quaxo sadly loosened his embrace, getting pulled back into reality. "Not really good," he admitted. "Tugger hit me with water balloons – not once, but twice – and then I think he got fleas 'cause he was running his paws up and down his body. But now I'm here with Corey and Millie, and that made it better. How are you?"

"I'm doing good. I just got back from Jenny's. She needed a little help with the mice. They're getting mean again. I don't think they like that we eat them…"

As their conversation rolled on, there was a whirlwind of activity further inside the den: space getting cleared, tomes getting laid out, tables getting placed, alchemical and magical apparatuses getting rolled and carried out. You could swear that the twins have done this little dance a great many times over the course of the past year, each piece of this magical environment placed with the utmost precision. Their bodies seemed to take on a different form, becoming a literal blur of movement as they prepped for their protégé's lesson. After what seemed like seconds, Coricopat and Tantomile have converted their place of residence into a completely different setting – one completely devoted to the teachings of magic.

The twins looked back over to see that the conversation between the two young lovebirds had ceased, and Victoria's mouth now hung open agape, marveling at the spectacle that unfolded before her eyes. This caused a wave of concern for the two elder magicians; for it has been an unwritten rule that anyone that isn't a regular guest in their den cannot see them use their magic. The trauma of last year's events still have not yet worn off, and Quaxo's magic show was the first bit of magic they had seen in a long time, so restrictions on the practice of certain types of magic were still being enforced. Limited displays were permitted in the junkyard and Quaxo could still practice spells, but anything beyond that was discouraged…

…And now a non-magical cat had seen the practice of one of those discouraged spells.

"Well, thanks for dropping by, Victoria" Coricopat blurted hastily. "It's always a pleasure to see you around. But Quaxo has some lessons and he really can't visit with anyone right now." As the words flew out of his mouth, he took hold of the door and slammed it right in her face.

"That wasn't very nice, Corey," Quaxo retorted.

Coricopat drew a sigh. "I know, Quaxo, and I'm sorry, but you know how I feel about non-magicals just hanging around. And furthermore, you left the door wide open. The whole tribe could've seen us."

"I'm sorry, Corey," the young cat replied.

"Oh, how can I be mad at you?" Coricopat rustled the tyke's fur on the top of his head. "You're too darn cute!"

"Aww, Corey…"

"If you two boys are done with your roughhousing," Tantomile interjected, "I believe it's time to get started with the lesson."

* * *

><p>"'…In order for a conjurer's spells to have max potential and efficacy, it is imperative that heshe retains their well-being in doing so…'"

As Coricopat read on in the grimoire, Tantomile followed along, both of them being captivated by the wealth of knowledge within. As the sage wisdom glided over his tongue, the atmosphere grew heavy with all manner of arcane knowledge. It was true that the twins, especially Coricopat, had a knack for teaching, as the words literally manifested themselves in shapes and pictures via the single uttering of a set of words. Coricopat read along as he lectured about the ancient conjurors of old, their techniques and signature spells, and the preparation that went into them. After a long lecture, the grimoire was closed and the twins awakened from their knowledge to find young Quaxo studying a completely different subject: the inside of his eyelids.

The star pupil…sleeping? In the middle of a lesson, no less. This was unprecedented. The cat that ordinarily couldn't keep his eyes off of his proctors now couldn't lift his head off his desk. Troubled, the twins gathered around the dormant pupil, still entwined in slumber.

"He looks so cute when he's asleep," Tantomile whispered.

"I know," Coricopat confirmed. "Just like an angel. So peaceful, so serene, so -"

"_WAAAGH!_"

One second, Quaxo was sound asleep. The next, he was clinging to the ceiling, his claws digging in and his teeth chattering.

"Oh, Heaviside!" Tantomile cried. "What happened, Quaxo?"

"Yeah," Coricopat added. "It looks like you saw a ghost."

Quaxo was trembling. "I…have."

"Really? You have?"

"Aagh!" Quaxo cried as he fell from the ceiling, landing on the floor on his feet, as all cats do. He then proceeded to tell the twins all about the nightmare that he had last night, adding "it happened again just now!"

The room went silent. The twins were in shock. This correlation of events has happened before, just before the darkest day the tribe had ever witnessed. There was no denying that it was coming again.

"Quaxo, honey…" Tantomile muttered, "there's something we need to show you."

"Wh-what is it, Millie? Is it bad?"

"Just come see."

They walked over to the grimoire, and Tantomile flipped through the pages with a somber look on her face. That this event could come again so fast…no one thought it would happen again.

After a brief moment of flipping through the book, the twins were looking at a face they thought would be sealed in time forever…

Coricopat was first to ask the young ward. "Quaxo, do you know about Firefrorefiddle?"

"Yeah, the Fiend of the Fell."

"Exactly. Well, what you don't know is that the play was based off of an actual event. Firefrorefiddle was a real cat…once upon a time."

Tantomile looked down at the page in the grimoire, and then turned her head to look at her twin. He nodded. They both knew they had to tell him. They _needed _to show him. Tantomile lifted the book, turned it around, and laid it back down so that Quaxo could see it. Cautiously, he walked up to the grimoire…and saw _it_.

The young, terrified cat was now face to face with the very creature that plagued his nightmares. The red, glowing eyes; the vaguely feline shape; the whirlwind of darkness – all of it was staring at him, in ghastly detail. He felt his fur stand on end, as well as a bone-chilling sensation that ran from his ears all the way down his spine and into his tail. He could feel the heat radiate from the old parchment, as if the picture was full of life. He looked up from the book at Coricopat, and then Tantomile. Then Tantomile took a deep breath.

"One hundred years ago," she started, "in the early days of the Jellicle tribe, magical cats were abundant. In fact, the whole tribe was made of magical cats. One of them was Firefrorefiddle. The most powerful cat of them all, his tricks would draw cats from all over England to see him perform. He was loved by all of felinekind, and he knew it."

"But one day," Coricopat continued, "there was a great darkness that enveloped the young magician, one that he – much less anyone else in the tribe – could control. It ate the young wizard up, turning everything positive in him into negative, and changing him into a manifestation of that darkness. In his rage, he then turned against the tribe. Fire and brimstone fell from the sky, causing mass bloodshed and loss of life. The elders of the tribe did all they could to cure the aberration the young magician had now become, but all of their efforts failed. And then, in one last ditch effort, they called upon a power unknown to quell it once and for all. They sealed it away in time, for all eternity. In his last breath, Firefrorefiddle swore vengeance on the elders and their descendants, promising to haunt them for the rest of their days."

"Even after the dust settled," Tantomile continued, "his presence was still felt in the dreams of those who vanquished it. Sadly, those nightmares were passed on down the ages onto the next of kin. The names of those successors have been lost to the ages, but history has remembered only a few." Here, she bent down to eye-level. "Their names were Lipshen – our father – and Bast."

"Bast?" Quaxo gasped. "My mommy's name was Bast."

"Then there is only one explanation for it, Quaxo." Tantomile whispered with a shaky breath. "Your mother has passed on the nightmares to you."

"But…but does that mean that we're related?"

"No, there were many elders: about five or six as I recall. We descended from two different elders: Corey and I from one and you from another."

"Now comes the bad part," Coricopat concluded. "There is an incantation in this book that one can use to summon Firefrorefiddle once more. You must never, _ever_, read that incantation. For he will come back stronger than ever."

With that, Tantomile closed the grimoire and replaced it on the shelf. "That concludes our lesson for today. You should think about getting some rest. We _all _should."


	6. A Matter Of Habit

Zzzzzzz. Hushabushabushabusha. Zzzzzzz. Mom, just five more minutes. Zzzzzz. AAAAUUUGH! WHAT? WHO? WHERE? WHAT WAS THAT?! Oh, it's you guys. You scared me. Well, as long as I'm up...

**Hey, EmceeSquare here!**

**I'm so sorry it took so long for me to update. I had a terminal case of writer's block. Add to that the fact that school is back in session, our theater's rehearsals (we're doing Grease, by the way), and the fact that I'm now in Debate, and well...priorities. But you have to know I was thinking about all of you and how much you supported my story and all of that positive feedback, and I never lost hope.**

**Now with all that being said, let's get down to the nitty-gritty: since senior year _is _in session, new chapters will be far between. I hope that's okay with you guys. Anyway, onto another topic: the Cats one-shot I was talking about last chapter. As it turns out, I'm writing it as we speak, so it's going to be a lot sooner than once thought. And also, while we're on the topic of one-shots, let's talk about the Skyrim one-shot. I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to push it farther back. There is just so much backstory in that fic that there just seems no time to fit it all in.**

**Now, as I said above, my high school (Cypress Falls) will be performing Grease next month. If you're in the Houston area and you want to come by and see it, mark your calendars for October 16th, 17th, 18th, and 20th. We look forward to seeing you there.**

**And one final thing: I understand that there are readers of mine that read and don't review. At this point, I'm practically begging for reviews. Please leave a review below. You can tell me anything about the story, positive or negative. So, please review. It helps me become a better writer.**

**UPDATED 10/21: Both One-Shots are now completed and uploaded. They are entitled "Catnip Chronicles," and "Airs and Graces." They're worth the checking out. Also, show's over. We wrapped Grease up last night. It was phenomenal. Also, be sure to check out my good friend pouncii and her story "Wicked Games." You won't regret it.**

**That takes care of that. So now, (and I'm so glad to be saying this) ONWARD WITH CHAPTER SIX!**

* * *

><p>Days passed and life returned to normal for the little tux cat. Lessons with Coricopat and Tantomile proceeded as usual, and Quaxo was once again happy. The twins looked happy, too. But deep inside, they knew all too well what was happening. They could see it in each other's eyes that a storm was coming, and fast. While the twins were fretting about the fate of the tribe, little Quaxo seemed to have forgotten all about the talk that they had all those days back. On the surface, he seemed like his happy-go-lucky self, but if someone were to take a closer look, they would see the fatigue brought upon by those fiendish nightmares that plagued his sleep. The dark circles and bags underneath his bloodshot eyes were all the indications needed that life for the kit was no easy task. The nightmares kept plaguing him, growing more and more horrendous as each day passed.<p>

It showed in his studies, too. He couldn't concentrate on his spells and incantations, and often times the spells blew up in his face. His tutors knew that something was wrong with the young cat, almost as if he could feel a great storm coming. Though somehow, he was still as chipper as ever. He wanted to remain strong for his teachers.

One day, while tutoring with the twins, Quaxo was learning a spell from Coricopat while Tantomile was out. It was a lightning spell – one of Coricopat's favorites – and he felt like it was Quaxo's turn to learn it.

"Think of your body as a teapot," he instructed. "Your hands are the spouts, and the electricity is the water. This is a fairly challenging spell, Quaxo. All of your concentration must be focused on the energy inside you. You can't afford to lose your concentration, or else the spell will backfire. You must feel it coarse through you."

Quaxo did as he was told, concentrating on the tingling sensation running through his chest, up his spine, and into his tail, feeling his fur stand on end.

"Heehee, it tickles," he said, wanting to appear for all intents and purposes that he completely forgot about Firefrorefiddle; that he was his old self. But just then, out of the blue, his mind shifted to something completely different. His mind went back to the other day, when Tugger stopped him outside Corey's den and ran his paws up and down his body, grunting and moaning all the while. He was so scared of what that was, yet so curious at the same time…

_BZZT!_

It was almost as if the energy burst through his tail, catapulting him into his teacher and sending them both reeling towards the wall. A loud _crash _resounded through the den, the impact knocking down pictures and vases left and right, cracking glassware and splintering wood.

When the dust cleared, both cats were surprisingly unscathed. The den around them, however, was in shambles. The bookshelf, the door, the alchemy stand – everything was in disarray. Coricopat looked around, aghast at the destruction his protégé caused. His home was no longer livable. Hell, it was _unrecognizable_.

He turned to Quaxo with an angry glare. "What did I tell you about losing your concentration?"

Quaxo looked up at his tutor with a nervous smile. "Heehee. Sorry, Corey."

"Sorry Corey nothing," he scowled, his voice rising in anger to a shout. "Look at what you did. Everything's broken. You wrecked our den! This is where we live! This is our home! AND YOU DESTROYED OUR HOME! WHADDYA HAVE TO SAY FOR – "

He stopped himself. Just up and stopped himself. _What am I doing? _he thought. _He's so young, and mistakes like that just happen. Moreover, he's like a son to me. I can't yell at my own son. What kind of a father would I be if I yelled at my own son?_

Just as soon as it came, all of his anger subsided, as if a wave of tranquility washed over him. Then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and on the exhale, something happened that the young magician never would forget.

As he exhaled, the den around them began to put itself back together, almost as if they were going back in time. Vases reassembled themselves, glassware was magically repaired, and bookshelves that had lost their wood were mended up good as new. Everything was put back into its place, and in no time, it would've seemed that the accident had never happened in the first place. Coricopat opened his eyes and stared down at his pupil with a kind look. "I'm sorry, Quaxo. I didn't mean to fly off the handle like that. I didn't mean to get angry at you. I never should have yelled at you. I guarantee you that it will never happen again. I'm sorry."

"Corey…" Quaxo glanced around the room that had been but splinters and shards not even a minute before but was now totally repaired, with everything in its proper place. "That was amazing. Does that spell have a name?"

Coricopat nodded. "It's called… Forgiveness."

"Forgiveness?"

"You remind me of when I was a little kit, Quaxo," Coricopat started reminiscing. "I got into more trouble than you could think of." He chuckled. "I can still remember the first time I learned that spell. It happened exactly as it just did – me rocketing to the front of the room. Mother and sister both had a fit when they saw the chaos. It was like a lorry drove through the room!" At this point, he crouched so he could see his pupil eye to eye. "The truth is, Quaxo, I see myself in you. You're almost exactly how I was back when I was your age. I was so… so blinded by rage when I saw what you did, I never took the time to realize I was actually looking right back at myself." He sighed, getting back up. "Quaxo, Everlasting as my witness, I will never get angry like that again. I promise."

"Thank you, Corey."

All of a sudden, Coricopat started thinking. "Quaxo, what was it that made you lose your concentration?"

"I was thinking about what Tugger was doing that day he had fleas."

"Fleas?"

"Yeah, he was rubbing his hands up and down himself."

Coricopat was taken aback. This little kitten, no more than eight years old, was asking about an unbelievably mature act that he couldn't possibly understand. He always knew that this day would come. But this soon? He didn't know what to do. Tantomile was out, and his pupil was asking about something he couldn't possibly fathom. And another thing: when they first took him under their wing, Old Deuteronomy told them that they would answer any questions he had. A promise is a promise, but what will this lead to? He decided to tell him. "Quaxo, those were no fleas. Come, here. I want to tell you something."

* * *

><p>Before long, Quaxo was on his way home. His mind was swirling; his thoughts scarred for life. For such a young kitten, this subject was almost impossible to comprehend. His innocence gone forever, he started heading home. However, it wasn't long until he heard familiar noises coming from the TSE-1. With the curiosity of what exactly they were doing in there resolved, another mystery surfaced. He could hear Tugger's voice and moans – they were unmistakable. But who was with him? It wasn't the husky, sultry voice of Bombalurina that he had heard many times before. No, these moans were distinctly more soprano. Whose voice was that? Quaxo decided to investigate.<p>

As he moved closer to the car, the moaning intensified. Moreover, he could make out a few words…

"Unh…does that feel good?" That was Tugger. Quaxo shivered as he heard that seductive whisper come from the trunk of the car.

Next came that enigmatic queen's voice: "Ungh…Tugger, stop! Please! I wanna stop!"

"Why… it's only just begun…my dear…"

Quaxo could've sworn he heard that kitten's voice from somewhere. It was so familiar. He just couldn't put his finger on it…

Then Tugger spoke again, his voice a very soft purr: "Sweet…sweet…_Victoria._"

* * *

><p>Quaxo ran back to his tutor's den, panting, his heart racing and his mind all abuzz. He looked around the den, and called for his tutors. "Corey!" he cried out, his voice pleading. "Millie!" He was alone in that den. No one to turn to when he needed them the most. His best friend…and Tugger…together! He knew what they were doing in there, and all of the filth! <em>This is a dream,<em> he tried to convince himself. _This is another nightmare. That has to be it! Any moment now, I'll wake up in my den. _But this was no dream. Quaxo knew that all too well. This was _real life_. Victoria was actually in there – trapped inside with that…that _monster!_ He was doing unspeakable things to her, things that she was way too young to understand. She was having her innocence torn away from her: stroke by stroke, kiss by kiss, more of it gone!

He could feel his blood start to boil and fester at the thought of the unspeakable horrors going on inside there. Tugger was doing something terrible to his best friend. His claws extended. He gritted his teeth. His fur stood on end. He swiped at the air like a cat possessed, as if Tugger were standing right in front of him: laughing, moaning, _stroking_. In the midst of his anger, a guttural voice rang in his ears…

"You know what you must do."

Quaxo took the voice's advice and marched over to the table, where the grimoire just so happened to be placed, its pages already opened. He flipped through the pages until his eyes fell upon a single incantation. Quaxo began to read.

"Short be the garish and blinding day…"

As he read, a gust of air blew in from the den door.

"…Long be the darkness of night…"

The wind became stronger.

"…The river doth flow…with crimson blood…under the moon's pale light…"

It grew in strength, disturbing the glassware and pictures upon the walls.

"…Let chaos rain from darkened clouds…"

The wind grew into a howl.

"…Felinity's demise…"

The wind was fierce, ripping through the den. The little cat had to practically shout over the gale.

"…Those times have come…the age, begun…"

It was as if a tornado was ripping through the den. The wind peaked in ferocity, roaring into the den, turning over the furniture, throwing around even the heaviest things as if they were mere toys. Quaxo's voice rang out over the storm.

"**FIREFROREFIDDLE!"**

Just like that, the wind subsided. Everything was absolutely still. But there was one word left to read…

"…_Arise."_


	7. Fiend in Feline Shape

**Hey, EmceeSquare here!**

**At long last, the chapter's finally been completed. I'm dreadfully sorry about me waiting nearly two months to complete this sucker. I was a complete wreck. Homework, school projects, and general procrastination. I let you down, and I'm sorry for that. Let's just hope that this makes up for it.**

**A little bit of a heads-up: this is gonna be the second-to-last chapter, with the story reaching its conclusion sometime next month. I just want to thank everyone for putting up with my lack of updating.**

**A bit of new news: I read some fantastic fics during this time that are criminally under-read and under-appreciated. These fics are "Scottish Siblings" by HowAboutThat, and "Ill" by my good friend Milesperhour. Check 'em out; you won't regret it.**

**Also, if you need something a bit less time-consuming, pop on over to my two one-shots, entitled "Airs and Graces" and "Catnip Chronicles." It's a nice balance, really - "Graces" is a real tearjerker, whereas "Catnip" is a hilarious story that will send you rolling with laughter. It would be nice of you to check them out.**

**UPDATE 11/28: A happy belated Thanksgiving to all my readers. I spent all yesterday at my grandmother's, so I wasn't able to crank out an update for you then.**

**Oh, and hey, don't forget to review them as well. It makes me a better writer knowing that I have all you guys backing me.**

**Anyway, let's get to what y'all came to see: Chapter Seven!**

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Coricopat and Tantomile were out getting some fresh air, taking a walk around the junkyard's outskirts. They were talking about old friends, new acquaintances, and of course, their little charge. They were musing about his latest blunder, him explaining it all to her.<p>

"'Forgiveness?' That's a little sappy, even by your standards, brother."

"Oh, come off it," Coricopat rebutted. "It fit perfectly at the time. And plus, I don't think that spell really has a name."

"Of course it does, brother. It's – "

Just as Tantomile was about to speak, a loud rumble reverberated throughout the junkyard, generating a gale that they had to stagger against. Ears flat against their heads, they planted their feet as the wall of sound sought to sweep them off their feet and hurl them through the air.

"What in Heaviside is going on?" cried Tantomile. "What's causing that?"

Suddenly, the wind subsided. All was eerily quiet in the junkyard once again. The cats settled, them staring shocked into the blackness of the night, which was awfully darker.

"That's weird," Coricopat remarked. "It wasn't that dark before. What do you think, sister…?" He turned his head. "Sister…? What's wrong?"

She was standing absolutely still. Not one muscle moved. Not one hair twitched. This has happened before. Them both being magical cats, they could sense anything, although Tantomile's senses were a bit more acute than her brother's. They both did this when they sensed something wrong. And tonight was no exception.

"Coricopat…" Tantomile questioned, scared about what the answer may be, "did you leave the grimoire on the table, opened?"

"Yes, so what does that…oh, no."

Deep within the junkyard, three words were uttered just then…

"_I…am…risen."_

* * *

><p>The junkyard was awhirl with chaos and destruction. Houses overturned, belongings flung around like toys, windows smashed, wood splintered… And in the wake of it all was little Quaxo, somehow shielded from harm. As he looked on, he could see the spawn that he released make its way through the junkyard, leaving mayhem in its wake.<p>

"_Quaxo! What have you done!?"_

Coricopat and Tantomile shouted at him, eyes wide with shock and mouth open with disbelief. _How could someone so young release something so evil? _They pondered. _And why?_

"You know what I said about Tugger?" He slowly turned to look at them, silent and unnerving, almost as if he was welcoming the chaos that surrounded him. His voice sounded like his eyes looked – glazed and distant. "Well, you won't have to worry about that _piece of shit _anymore. My little friend is on his way to take care of him."

They were shocked. Quaxo never used that kind of language. He never even _heard _the words before. Something was not right here. "Wha? – Quaxo, you don't know what you're saying."

He chuckled, ominously. "Oh, yes I do. _You_ don't know what _he _did."

"What are you saying? Quaxo, you're not making any –"

"He _fucked _her! _Victoria! _She was _raped_ by Tugger! I heard it all! The grunting, the moaning, Victoria telling him to stop, time and time again only to be answered by more unspeakable things. It was awful. I couldn't _bear_ to listen to my best friend getting ravaged by that… that… THING! So you know what I did? I took things into my _own _hands. I opened up the grimoire to the incantation to let him out…so that he could _kill Tugger._" There was silence for a minute. "He's an _animal _– a filthy fucking _Pollicle! _And he needs… to be… put down."

This was definitely not the cuddly, cute Quaxo they had come to know over the past whole year. No, this was someone that was consumed by hatred and rage. He reeked of sorrow and lost innocence, almost as if _he_ was the one in there with Tugger…

_Smack!_

Coricopat slapped Quaxo clear across the face, in an attempt to snap him out of this madness. "Quaxo!" he yelled, shaking his young charge, who was now overcome with hate. "You're _killing _him! You're ending Tugger's life! A life is way too valuable to end! Once you go through with this, you can _never _go back. There's no reversing _anything_! Is that really what you want to do? Quaxo? Quaxo…?"

"I gotta go."

Quaxo shook himself free from his chaperone's grasp. The darkness swallowed him whole by this time. "I want to be there when it happens. I want to see the pain and agony – the same pain and agony he caused Victoria. I want him to die slowly."

And so he went on, through the fire and the destruction.

* * *

><p>Tugger's hind leg was caught under a piece of concrete that crashed down on him. He tried to shake himself loose, but the pain was too much. He just couldn't get free. He was alone and scared; something he never felt before in his entire life. He could feel himself quaking with fear. So vulnerable for the first time in his life. All of a sudden, he saw a shadow; one belonging to a certain magical cat.<p>

"Oh, Quaxo! Thank the Everlasting! Now, if you could just –"

"What? Just free you so you could rob another kitten of its innocence? Which one would it be this time? Jemima, Electra, Etcetera, Pouncival...Or perhaps _me_? Is that what you want you sick _fuck_? IS IT?!"

"No, no!" Tugger pleaded. "I don't want any of that! Please help!"

"Then why did you do your little business with Victoria? Why didn't you just stick with you _fuck buddy_, Bomb_shell_urina? Why did you want to rob Victoria of her innocence?"

"I've – " He paused for a second. "I've got a problem. A serious problem. I hated what I was doing to her, but I just…couldn't…stop. Believe me; I never wanted to do anything to her, but…" He broke down. Tears rolled down his face, turning his usually calm, smug face into a river of emotions. Self-pity, grief, anger, remorse, and sorrow rolled down his cheek now. "I promise to never do anything like that ever again; Everlasting as my witness. I will never lay a hand on her or any of the kittens ever again. I swear."

He looked up to see another shadow, coming around the bend. This one was like nothing he'd ever seen before – its eyes a burning crimson, its head and body darker than night itself. It was the most terrifying thing he ever saw in his life…

And it was coming straight for him.

"Quaxo," he begged. "Please stop this. I don't want to die!"

"Why…" Quaxo spoke in a mocking, deriding tone, "it's only just begun… my dear."

"PLEASE! MAKE IT STOP! PLEASE!"

"Very well. I do grow tired of this charade." Quaxo growled. "Your wish is my command. Goodbye."

The magical cat rose up into the air, with the creature from countless nightmares to his back. Sparks jumped from paw to paw, just like the night of the magic show. A bubble of yellow energy began to form around the conjuring cat, growing to encompass him. Still he rose, higher into the sky, with Firefrorefiddle right behind him at this point. He was engulfed by the bubble now, ready to unleash it upon the poor cat below…and then just like that, time completely stopped. The three of them were now completely frozen in time. Then in the blink of an eye, Quaxo whirred around, faced the creature, and clapped his hands together…

And then everything went white.


	8. Another Day Is Dawning

**Hey! Emcee Square here!**

**We did it! The story's finally done! And this time it didn't take two months to update! That's a double win! First off, though, I wanna get a few things off my chest.**

**I'd like to thank Milesperhour, pouncii, Silenthunder, HowAboutThat, and a whole host of other readers that left reviews on my FanFics (and those that will continue to do so *wink*) for telling me how I'm doing. And I'd like to thank all of my readers for sticking with me during those sometimes month-long breaks. I'm sorry I let you down.**

**Another thing: during the course of this process, I've been playing a lot of awesome video games (namely Red Faction: Guerilla and Persona 4) and I can't wait to see what I'll do with those. Give me a holler if you're interested in seeing a FanFic or two about those. **

**And lastly: because 'tis the season, I want to wish every one of you guys a Merry Christmas, Hanukkah. Kwanzaa, or otherwise. I know it's a tad early, but it's the thought that counts.**

**Without further ado, I present to you the conclusion of Of Candles, Books, and Bells!**

* * *

><p>The dust settled. All was quiet in the junkyard once again. The scene was one of peace, which was a complete difference from a matter of seconds ago. The mayhem was still present. The ground was fraught with debris from all the neighboring dens that the Jellicles lived in. Dens were left without their roofs; glass littered the cement; and junk was strewn around the junkyard. And lying in the middle of it all was the Rum Tum Tugger, still grasping at his injured leg but now staring into the sky. He witnessed a marvelous and simultaneously terrifying display of magic in the skies above him. In those skies, two figures had been standing, but now there was a single figure that took the shape and form of a young kitten, his fur shimmering yellow in the night. He came down gracefully, like a feather, touching gingerly down on the ground. He drew a sigh, and then looked at Tugger.<p>

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes, apart from the slab of concrete stuck on my leg!"

There he was again. Good ol' Tugger: a stark contrast from what he was merely seconds earlier.

"Oh, sorry."

With a wave of his hand, the slab was cleared from his leg. The wound showed itself, bones poking through his skin, matting his black fur with blood. Now that the debris was cleared, the full brunt of the pain was revealed, causing Tugger to writhe in pain with every movement of his torn limb. However, the pain did not last long, as Quaxo mended the broken bone. The macho tom, awe-stricken by what was happening, watched as his leg repaired itself, and the wound was completely healed. Within a matter of seconds, one couldn't even tell that anything had ever happened to him.

"That's better. Now, could you tell me what in Heaviside that was?"

Quaxo told Tugger all about Firefrorefiddle: the demon's origins, the incantation, and the chaos that just unfolded, adding "I wanted to kill you for what you've done to Victoria. She was my best friend, and I couldn't allow you to do that to her."

Tugger's face once again softened. "As I've told you, I've got a problem. A serious one. I never wanted to do anything to Victoria, or _you _for that matter. You see, Quaxo, I just don't know when to draw the line. I don't know why I do the things I do with Bomba with Victoria. Maybe it's because… because I was alone, and I wanted somebody with me. I know now that there's no excusing what I've done. But I swear to you, Victoria, and the Everlasting Cat that I will never let that happen again. As for what already happened, I just want you to know – because she's your best friend – that I'm truly and terribly sorry for what I did to her, and I hope you can forgive me."

The little tux cat was touched that Tugger said those humbling words, and all at once, his hatred in the macho tom was washed away. But there was still one thing the little magician had to do.

"Tugger," Quaxo said, "I want you to see something."

And with that, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

The world around them started to spring to life. The debris that cluttered the junkyard began to rumble and shake, as if something miraculous was about to happen.

And it did.

The ruinous junkyard began to come to life. Divots fixed themselves, the scrap metal and glass that littered the junkyard cleaned itself up, and whole dens that were destroyed in the chaos were completely mended. Tugger looked on in awe as the little cat weaved the tumultuous habitat back into the way it was before. Everything was put in its proper place, the whole landscape of the junkyard becoming refined, as if the event itself never happened in the first place.

When the work was completed, Quaxo collapsed to his knees, letting out a sigh of content.

"That…was remarkable!" Tugger gawked. "What do you call that? Does that even have a name?"

Quaxo looked up at him and smiled. "It's called "Forgiveness." For you saying those things to me and showing your weak side, I was touched with the greatness deep down inside your heart. You knew what you were doing was wrong, and you admitted it. That takes some real courage. Now, I have to apologize for what I did wrong…"

"_QUAXO!"_

The magical cat whirred around to see Old Deuteronomy towering over him. His demeanor was serious, and he did not look pleased.

"Come with me. We need to talk."

* * *

><p>They all waited anxiously outside of the twins' den. The twins, Quaxo, Tugger, and the leader of the tribe were all in there debating the fate of the little one. As conversations went over inside, the cats outside feared the worst.<p>

"It was fun with him in the tribe." Tumblebrutus reminisced. "He was the only friend Pouncival and I ever had."

"Yeah," Pouncival affirmed. "Can't believe they're really gonna excommunicate him."

"Shh, don't talk like that," Jellylorum piped up. "They're not going to excommunicate him." At this point, she lowered her head. "At least, I hope they won't."

Suddenly, the door to the den swung open, and the five of them piled out, Deuteronomy leading the line. "Ladies and gentlecats," he boomed, "I have an announcement to make. Would Quaxo and the Rum Tum Tugger please join me at the front here?"

The beckoned cats – the prodigy and the debaucher – walked warily to Deuteronomy's side.

"As you all know, a large disturbance has disrupted our tribe, and a great evil was unleashed. Luckily, it was contained before anyone could be gravely injured, and our homes that have been damaged are now restored. However, punishments will still have to be doled out. For the last handful of hours, Coricopat, Tantomile, and I have been debating the fate of these two cats: whether they are to remain Jellicles, or be excommunicated from the tribe. After a long debate, we have reached a conclusion."

The air was tense. The tribe held their breath, as they waited for the judgment for the two cats. No one dared to breathe. The seconds crept by like a thousand eternities. And then, the monarch's booming voice broke the silence:

"_Neither_ of these cats shall be excommunicated from the tribe."

A roar of applause and shouts came from the crowd of cats in attendance. They rejoiced, for the two cats will remain in the tribe.

"However," Old Deuteronomy boomed, and the junkyard was once again quiet. "There will still be punishment. Young Quaxo here will resume his lessons with Coricopat and Tantomile, only the lessons shall be daily instead of weekly. As for the Rum Tum Tugger, he will undergo therapy with Jennyanydots and Jellylorum, and shall have sessions weekly starting tomorrow. These lessons will continue until the foreseeable future. That is all."

* * *

><p>The sun was hanging low in the sky. The two cats walked together.<p>

"So, therapy with Jenny and Jelly, huh?" Quaxo inquired. "I feel sorry for you."

"You really shouldn't," Tugger said, "they always _did _have a soft spot for me. And you'll have lessons every day now, which is cool, I guess."

"Yeah, it's fun!" Quaxo chimed. "I get to learn a lot of cool stuff from them. After all, they're gonna teach me conjuration."

"Sounds cool."

"Yeah. It is... Wait – Tugger, stop."

The macho tom stopped and turned around to face the kit, which was looking guilty.

"I need to tell you something."

"What is it, Quaxo?"

The little cat's head was facing downward now, eyes cast upon the floor. "I have to apologize for what I did. I tried to kill you. You can't really ever forgive me for something as serious as that. I was just…consumed by rage out of what you did that I never had any time to think about what I was doing. I just…acted. And those words that I said. They weren't mine. I never even heard them before. I'm just so…so…"

The magical cat was beginning to break down. Tears flowed from his eyes. His body began to quiver and shake. He cried and cried. He felt so bad, so sorry for what he did, so angry that he couldn't do anything to stop it. Suddenly, he felt a paw on his shoulder. He looked up to see Tugger's face: comforting, soft, and understanding – a face that was truly rare indeed.

"Quaxo," he said calmly, "I forgive you."

He grabbed the little tyke and held him close. He hugged him with all his might. Quaxo hugged back, too, still sniffling. Two enemies had become the best of friends. They just stood there for a moment or two, in each other's embrace.

After a moment, Tugger shook himself loose. "Alright, alright, that's enough now."

"Sorry, Tugger," he giggled as he let go. The two continued walking on.

"You know, Quaxo," Tugger said, "you're a cool cat. I can teach you a few things and then the kittens will fall head over heels for you. You know. Not as much as me, though."

Quaxo giggled, and then uttered this as they walked on into the sunset.

"Tugger," he said, "you're a terrible bore."


	9. Epilogue

They think they have won.

That they have extinguished me.

But one ember remains.

And it shall be rekindled.

It is only a matter of time.

I can wait.


	10. Author's Note

**Hey, EmceeSquare here!**

**Thank you so much for all the heartwarming reviews in this fic. Sadly, it has reached its _true _completion. However, the story continues on in the sequel, entitled "The Jemima Complex." **

**Once again, I'd like to thank everyone that followed, favorited, and reviewed this story. I look forward to hearing more from all of you in the future.**

**Until we meet again, ad astra per aspera! (to the stars through difficulty)**


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